Survival
by DancerInTheDark101
Summary: Follow Ben Mason and those in the Second Massachusetts as they fight to survive after the battle in Boston and Tom Mason's disappearance. Set in the three months between Season 1 and Season 2. Ensemble fic. [NEW CHAPTER UP! 13/05/2013]
1. Part 1, chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is the edited, slightly altered revamped version of 'Survival'. Not much has changed from the first copy, but I've decided to split the parts into smaller chapters, instead of whopping 9,000-10,000 word ones. This chapter and the newly uploaded second chapter are just the original part 1 split up, but I'll be uploading the third chapter (NEW!) in the next few days :)**

**If you've read this before, then you might wanna read it again, just to catch up and refresh yourself on the plot etc and if you haven't read it, then please read! (and leave a review if you're feeling generous).**

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**SURVIVAL**

_**DancerInTheDark101**_

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– Part 1 –

Chapter 1

_So it begins…_

Captain Weaver looked on in a mixture of shock and horror as Tom Mason followed the harnessed Karen onto the mother ship, where they soon quickly disappeared into the depths. The ship began to hover and the lights emitting from the alien structure began to flash at random intervals as the door closed with a hiss. The sound of the ships thrusters powering up ripped through the otherwise calm night air, followed closely by a strong wind caused by the energy being dispersed by the engines.

The captain threw up an arm to shield his face as the ship began to elevate, the wind howling around him and lashing at the exposed skin on his face and neck. Another burst of energy later and the mother ship, along with the tall alien, Karen and Tom Mason, was gone. Dan Weaver was left standing in the ruins of Boston, Massachusetts alone and with a very long trek back to John F. Kennedy High School.

Tom had informed him of the survival of Pope and Anthony, so that was one less thing for Weaver to worry about. Anthony was in bad shape, but Pope managed to get another old car up and running and was driving that back to the school.

Something moved to his left and instantly Weaver was on alert. He reached behind him and quickly grabbed his gun, swinging it around to the front and gripping it tight with his finger pressed against the trigger tightly.

He scoped the area out, eyes sweeping back and forth in the darkened night. Bending his knees slightly, the militia captain slowly and carefully moved along the edge of the road. He had moved a few hundred meters before he heard it. To the right of him on the other side of the road was the tell-tale noise of Skitters communicating. Their garbled snappish tones seemingly magnified in the cool night air.

"Shit," he whispered as they came into sight. There were four of them, standing in somewhat of a circle. He couldn't see or hear any Mechs nearby, which was strange in itself. Now he just had to find a way to get around the Skitters without making himself known. As much as he took pride in his own fighting and shooting skills, there wasn't much he was going to be able to do against four Skitters. He was alone and only had the SIG assault rifle and the Beretta handgun. The best thing he could do now was make it back alive to the rest of the Second Mass. They were his first priority.

Taking in a deep steadying breath, Weaver inched backwards to shield himself in the darkness provided by several trees lining the road. The Skitters were smack bang in the middle of the intersection, the very same intersection he was going to have to go through to get back to the high school.

Behind him was the city. There was always a chance he could back track into the city and find another way around, but there was no telling how many Mechs and Skitters were patrolling there. Especially considering that they'd just managed to severely damage the control tower.

Allowing himself to turn and look at the tower, Dan Weaver couldn't help but smirk. The tower was slowly but surely being destroyed. He could see multiple explosions ripping through the metal structure in a domino effect. Soon, there wouldn't be enough support to keep it upright and it would crumble. Weaver wanted to be far, far away when that happened.

Weaver gripped the gun a little tighter before moving forward, keeping as close to the tree line as he could. It wasn't long before he reached the edge of the road which then spread out into the open space of the cross roads before splitting off into the four separate roads. He was going to have to continue going straight, but with the Skitters converged right in the middle; it was going to be one hell of a problem.

Maybe he could use a distraction. He had a quick look through the pockets in his jacket and pants to see if there were any grenades or other weapons he could use, but came up empty. He could always fire his weapon in another direction, but there was always the chance the gunfire could bring other Mechs and Skitters running and if he was followed…

No, the only way to go about it was to somehow get past without being heard or seen. He pressed himself against the nearest tree and decided to wait it out. If the Skitters didn't move in half an hour, he was going to have to try something else.

As he waited, Weaver thought about everything that had just happened. Yes, they had managed to destroy the tower over Boston, but at what cost? He'd lost his XO aboard an alien mother ship in an attempt to save his middle child; several of his best fighters had been killed on the attack on Boston and god knows what else.

Tom had informed him that there had been an attack on the school, so they had been forced to evacuate all the civilians and children while several of the fighters stayed behind to fight them off. In the end, Scott had managed to find the frequency at what the Mechs and Skitters were communicating through and jammed it. And he'd had help in the most unusual way – Ben Mason.

Weaver was a little wary of Ben Mason. Yes, he seemed like a decent kid; smart, loyal and dedicated. But he had overheard the other Mason children talking about how much he had changed. The kid had increased strength and stamina and now he could hear the radio frequencies used by the aliens? There were two ways that could go. It could be an asset, used much like how Scott did and jam the frequencies; or it could be one hell of a hindrance. If the kid could hear the Skitters talking, who knew what they were telling or doing to him.

He rubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. God, things were becoming more and more complicated. And now he was going to have to go back and tell those three Mason boys that their father was gone – willingly boarding an alien ship to save Ben's life.

A sound tearing through the sky broke the captain out of his thoughts. Looking up, Weaver saw several airships rocketing towards the tower. A quick peek out to the intersection showed that the Skitters were moving and they were moving away from the city.

A sinking feeling shot through his gut. As soon as the Skitters were out of sight, Weaver sprinted across the open, exposed area and to the other side before quickly hiding in the tree line again. He watched on in horror as the airships stopped over central Boston and dropped what looked like glowing balls of…something.

The results were instantaneous.

A huge explosion tore through the city, sending a shock wave like a tidal wave racing outwards from the point of impact. Weaver grimaced as the wind hit him and almost threw him off his feet. There was another explosion, quickly followed by a third.

The aliens were bombing Boston. Anyone still alive in the city would have been killed in seconds.

"Oh god…" He stared as buildings began to crumble, the once amazing skyline of the city now reduced to rubble and ashes.

Boston was gone.

Entranced by the sight before him, it took a few minutes for Weaver to bring his thoughts back together. From the actions before him, he knew that the aliens were pissed. After all, they'd just bombed a city they had complete control of. Obviously the towers were much more important than what they originally alleged.

Looking back, Weaver saw the truck that he and Tom had managed to get up and running. It was just sitting there. Before, he hadn't been able to use it as he hadn't wanted to alert the Skitters, but now… Making the decision, the captain raced back over to where the old truck was parked and jumped in the driver's side. He was going to have to high-tail it out of there, because if any of the enemy heard the engine, he was screwed.

Weaver winced as the engine started with a loud grumble before smoothing out into a dull roar. He pulled the rifle off his back and placed it on the passenger's seat, making sure that he would be able to grab it easily enough. He placed the Beretta that was currently placed in a holster attached to his belt on the dash.

Gripping the steering wheel, he did a quick sweep of the area and after finding it abandoned, he planted his foot on the accelerator and headed towards the school. Hopefully there were still some of the fighters hanging around, as Pope and Anthony should have arrived by now.

It took less time to get back to the high school than it did heading towards the city, Weaver noticed as he pulled up to the darkened buildings. He had been lucky on the way back, not encountering any Skitter or Mech patrols. That didn't quite sit right with him, but he was going to take all that he could get at the moment.

The school was dark and he couldn't see any movement coming from within or outside. Maybe they'd all gone.

"Hal?" he called out, grimacing as his voice carried in the otherwise silent night.

"Captain Weaver?" a hesitant voice spoke out several moments later. Grabbing the two guns in the truck, Weaver slowly inched his way out of the truck. He had no idea how many guns were trained on him and didn't want to take any chances.

"Yes, it's me," he replied, knowing the other voice belonged to the teenage fighter. He knew what the next question would be, and he wasn't looking forward to answering it.

"Is my Dad with you?"

Weaver hesitated. He put a hand up to cover his eyes as several floodlights came on, bathing the entire area in light. Looking from behind his hand, he saw Hal, Maggie, Dai and Jimmy standing beside one of the overturned cars and they all had their weapons aimed in his direction.

"He's not with me." He decided not to elaborate. The figured the best way to break the news would be to tell the Mason boys separately and then the rest of the Second Mass as a whole. Weaver then dropped his SIG rifle and Beretta on the ground before turning around, hands in the air, showing the fighters that he was unarmed.

Hearing the tell-tale clicks of the safety being flicked on the fighters' weapons, Weaver bent down and grabbed his own weapons before straightening again and facing the young men and women before him.

He looked at the faces staring back at him, almost buckling under the emotion pouring off one in particular. Hal looked devastated; sick even. His face was ashen under the mop of black unruly hair; his eyes glistening under the light as they swum with unshed tears. He seemed to have shrunk, his body slouched and limp. Weaver cursed Tom Mason for doing what he had done. He knew he was just trying to save his kid, but what about the other two?

Weaver knew what it was like to lose a child and never wanted to experience that again, but what were Hal and Matt going to think when he told them what their father had done? Yes, he'd gone with them to save their brother, but at the same time he'd effectively abandoned them all.

"Let's head inside and I'll explain," he said. He locked eyes with Hal. "Hal, you need to grab your brother. Bring him to my office and I'll explain everything, okay?" His tone softened noticeably when talking to Hal.

The boy nodded before stalking off, head hung low. Weaver caught the glances the others sent to each other. "Go," he ordered gruffly. "Get everyone still here and gather them in the gymnasium. Once I've finished talking to the Mason boys, I'll debrief everyone on what's happened. We'll be moving out to join the rest as soon as I've done that." When no one moved, Weaver stopped walking and spun around, glaring. "Go! You'll hear everything soon enough. Hal will be fine." He added the last part as an afterthought. Of course they were going to be worried about the teenager. He was a fellow soldier; a friend.

The three fighters dispersed, each heading in a different direction to round up the remaining troops. Weaver now had the hard task of explaining to two teenagers and a young boy why their father was gone. He strode towards his office, thinking of how to break it to them. It was obvious that Hal thought his father was dead. Yes, he could have cleared that up when he had first arrived, but there wasn't time.

It was only a matter of time before the Skitters and Mechs found out that there were still fighters left at the school. They'd be back, and they'd bring the heavy artillery this time.

Arriving at his make-shift office, Captain Dan Weaver peered inside before entering. He placed a hand on the glass window the made up the top half of the door, feeling something inside him break as he saw the two boys.

The two of them were sitting together on one of the couches placed against the far wall. Hal was sitting on one end, fidgeting as he waited to hear news of their father. Ben however was sitting very still, seemingly staring out into nothing and not responding to anything said to him by his brother.

As soon as he opened the door, the two boys head's shot up and towards the noise. Hal stood immediately, his eyes shining with grief and laced with anger. Good, Weaver thought. Anger was what was going to get the eldest through this.

"Sit, Hal," Weaver commanded. The black-haired boy sat again, this time on the edge of the couch. The captain went and grabbed one of the many wooden chairs placed in the room and pulled it so that he was sitting directly in front of the boys. He spun it round and sat on it, arms resting on the back of the chair.

Weaver breathed deeply, preparing himself for the task he was about to undertake. He knew that the boys weren't going to react well. There would assuredly be blame placed upon him for letting their father onto the alien ship in the first place.

"Your father isn't dead." He went straight to the point. There was no reason to beat around the bush and delay it all out.

"What?" Hal exploded. "You came back alone! If he's not dead, then where the hell is he? Is he still in the city? Injured?"

"Let me explain, Hal. You will know everything. Just let me explain." The elder Mason boy slumped back into the couch. Weaver could see his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. This was not going well.

"I met up with Tom in the city. He'd come in a little too late though. Most of our men were dead and as far as I'm aware, only Pope and Anthony made it out. Tom managed to get hold of our RPG-7 fitted with the Mech-enhanced warhead and shot down one of the airships as it was entering the Boston Tower. The tower is gone."

Leaving no time for the boys to interrupt him, Weaver carried on. He noticed that Hal looked proud of his father's achievements. Personally, Weaver thought the shot was somewhat of a fluke, but fluke or not, it worked.

Shifting slightly in his seat, the Captain sighed heavily as the events of the day finally caught up with him. He was exhausted and in desperate need of sleep. That wasn't an option however. They needed to keep moving.

"We managed to get an old truck up and running and were leaving the city when we were stopped. An alien mother ship blocked our path and we were confronted by," he broke off, coming to the sudden conclusion that this next part wasn't going to be easy on the eldest Mason boy either. There was no avoiding it though. "We were approached and confronted by Karen."

Weaver had never seen someone deflate as easily as what Hal Mason did when he heard his girlfriend's name. The young man fell back in his seat, face draining of all colour and Weaver could virtually see the thoughts racing around his head.

"Was… was she harnessed?" Hal's voice was shaky at best. He ran a hand through the mess of black hair, his gaze locking with his own as he leant forward placing his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands.

"I'm afraid that she was harnessed, Hal."

"Oh god…" Hal groaned. "Karen…" he trailed off into a whisper.

Captain Weaver let the boy have a moment and while doing so, he took the time to take a good look at Ben. The boy looked horrified and Weaver knew exactly what was going through his mind. Karen had been taken when Hal and his girlfriend had been trying to rescue him from the Skitters. The boy was blaming himself for Karen being harnessed; which was ridiculous. It was as much his fault as it was Hal's. There had been nothing they could have done. Just like Ben had no choice when he had been taken and harnessed against his will.

"What happened then?" It was Ben Mason who had spoken this time. His voice was quiet and filled with regret. "What did Dad do?"

"After Karen appeared, the alien ship had landed and one of the tall aliens stepped out. Karen started spouting a whole bunch of nonsense and we quickly realised the alien was using Karen to communicate with us."

"What did it want?" Hal enquired. He was now siting up straight, his gaze boring straight into his own. Weaver could see that the anger that had been flickering through his eyes was now fully there.

"It wanted your father. Karen started saying some stuff about Ben, how the harness is a process and apparently Ben isn't free from it yet." Weaver took the time to observe how they were processing all the information.

Hal was angry, his face closed off and his eyes gleaming. He was now looking at his younger brother, but Weaver knew he didn't blame him.

Ben… Ben looked horrified. His mouth was open, lips trembling slightly as he attempted to handle the information that had just been handed to him. His breathing had sped up slightly, hitching as he inhaled. The boy was close to a breakdown.

Weaver hated that he had to do this to the boys, but they needed to know. They deserved to know the truth.

"What happened then?" The question came after a long silence; Hal's voice tired and flat.

"They wanted Tom to go with them. It was the only way they were going to leave Ben alone. So Tom went with them." Weaver waited for the backlash. The boy's didn't disappoint.

"What!?" Hal exploded. He stood and glared with eyes full of fury. "You just let our father go onto an alien ship _willingly_!? What kind of leader are you!?"

Weaver said nothing, but stood as well. He felt the ache immediately rush back into his bones. He was getting too old for this. He brought himself to his full height and stared down at the black-haired teenager. Hal was furious, that much was evident. He had the right to be angry. Hell, Weaver was angry with himself. But Hal hadn't been there. If Tom hadn't have gone with them, they would have been killed on the spot, and the Second Mass would have been next. Tom hadn't just sacrificed himself for his boy (although that was the main reasoning behind it), he had also given the Second Mass some time to get far away from Boston.

Weaver found himself in a deadlock with the eldest Mason boy. Hal was glaring at him; confusion, questioning and fury flashing through his eyes. He was standing ramrod straight, his hands clasping the grip of the assault rifle that was slung over his shoulder. How long the stare-down lasted, Weaver had no idea. They were broken out of it by the slamming of a door and both turned to see Ben's spot on the couch empty.

Hal deflated again, seemingly shrinking into himself as he stared at the door which had closed roughly behind his younger brother.

"I'm going to find Ben," Hal growled. "Once I have, we need to talk."

Weaver nodded. The teenage fighter had questions; one's that he didn't want his brothers to hear as the answers might not be what they wanted to hear. Hal nodded his head once before striding over to the door and wrenching it open.

Running a hand over his face again, Weaver wondered what the hell they were going to do now. He was going to have to appoint a new XO, but there weren't a lot of choices to go around. He needed someone who wasn't power hungry and would put the civilians first. That's probably why his and Tom's relationship worked so well. He was in charge of the battle plans and anything relating to the fighters, while Tom worked with the civilians and worked his hardest to make sure they stayed safe and weren't forgotten about in the grand scheme of things. Tom's knowledge of American military history had come in very handy as well.

But now all that was lost and there were only a few he would trust to step up and take the responsibilities. There was also the option of not choosing just one, but splitting the duties between several soldiers. He would just have to play it by ear and see how it went.

Right now, he had a debriefing to attend in the gymnasium. Weaver rolled his head back and forth, stretching the muscles in his neck. His body was beginning to stiffen up after all the excitement the day had brought. He was going to be sore tomorrow, that was for sure.

With all those thoughts running on a continuous loop in his head, Weaver strode towards the gym.

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**Thanks for reading! Second chapter is up now too. Third is to come in a few days :)**


	2. Part 1, chapter 2

**And here's chapter 2 of Part 1! Enjoy :) Part 2; chapter 1 to come soon!**

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**SURVIVAL**

_**DancerInTheDark101**_

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-Part 1-

Chapter 2

_So it begins..._

Ben Mason sat in a secluded area of the high school, legs pulled up towards his chest, arms wrapped around them and his head resting on top of his knees. He'd just been delivered the news that his father was gone; had gone aboard an alien ship with his brother's harnessed girlfriend, just to save him. He'd seen the looks Hal had been shooting him discreetly and if he was honest, Ben didn't blame him. It had been his fault that Karen had been taken and now it was his fault that their father was gone.

If he had been strong enough to resist the Skitters in the first place, none of this would have happened. Now he was some kind of freak and everyone knew it.

He could feel his body changing; his strength had multiplied a hundred fold and his stamina was off the charts. He could do one hundred push ups without breaking a sweat, could run for miles without stopping and he could hear the frequencies the Skitters and Mechs used to communicate. They were the attributes he knew others knew about. But there were others no one was aware of. His hearing had become more developed; he could hear things further away than he ever could have imagined. His eyesight, while never bad, was better than ever and he could see amazingly well in the dark. It was only gradual changes, but they were happening all the same.

Ben let go of his legs and leant back against the wall, his head smacking against the wooden panelling a little harder than he thought. He winced lightly as a small pounding behind his eyes made itself known. Leaning forward again, Ben leant back and felt his head smack the wall yet again. He repeated this process several times before he was broken out of the trance by a hand landing on his shoulder.

The middle Mason child looked up to see his older brother standing above him. He sighed before lowering his head, gaze staring at the dirty floor. What did Hal want now?

"You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep that up, Ben." Hal's voice was quiet, undertones of concern lacing the words. That made Ben freeze. Was his brother not going to lash out at him because of what he had caused?

"What?" he asked, a little dumbfounded. _Smooth, Mason…_ he thought.

Ben watched as Hal leant up against the wall before sliding down it to sit next to him. His brother's face was pale, a stark contrast to the black mop of hair that sat on top of his head. Hal looked so much like their mother. Sometimes it was hard to look at him properly as it brought back all the memories he had tried so hard not to forget.

"Don't blame yourself, Ben. None of this is your fault."

"How is it not?" Ben snapped back, eyes flashing angrily. He turned towards his brother, not caring about the hurt look that filtered across his face. "How is any of this _not_ my fault? It's because of me that your girlfriend was taken and subsequently harnessed; it's my fault that those kids got killed by the Mech, because you came to take me away and took Rick instead so they killed the rest of his group. It's my fault that Dad's gone! He went to save my life because of these stupid spikes sticking out of my back!" Ben stopped talking and looked away, his chest heaving as he took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

"So tell me Hal… How is any of this _not my fault_!?"

It wasn't until Ben had calmed down a little that he noticed his hands were trembling. He glanced up at Hal, blinking and it wasn't until then that he registered that he was crying. Warm, salty tears were making tracks down his face before dripping onto his t-shirt.

A sob ripped out of him and that was all it took. The dam broke and Ben found himself launching himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around his muscled body and gripping tight as he continued to cry. He could feel one of his brother's hands in his hair while the other was wrapped around him as well, rubbing soothing circles on his back, but mindful of the spikes in his spine.

They stayed that way for quite some time, Ben struggling to get his emotions under control as he leant against his brother. Ben wiped his eyes as he stopped crying, trying to get rid of the evidence of his break down. His breath was shaky, hitching as he inhaled the much needed oxygen and he was still trembling slightly. He always hated crying. You were always so exhausted afterwards.

"Ben?" Hal whispered.

"Mhhhmm?" he answered, unable to trust himself to talk at the moment.

"No matter what you say, no one blames you. You're just as much of a victim in all of this as anyone else. Don't take shit from others, okay? You're always going to have me, Matt, Captain Weaver and the others to back you up, 'kay?"

Ben nodded, sniffling. "Sorry," he murmured, unable to hide the rising embarrassment of breaking down in front of his older brother. "I didn't mean to cry all over you…"

Hal laughed at that. "It's okay. I don't think you've cried that much since you fell out of the tree-house when you were eight and broke your leg. Although I think you screamed a lot back then too," he added with a tease.

Ben snickered at that. He didn't remember much of that, but his parents had told him that he'd screamed the house down. His leg had been broken in two places and apparently he hadn't shut up the entire way to the hospital in the ambulance.

Pulling his legs underneath him, Ben stood slowly wincing as cramp erupted in his legs from being so still for so long. Stretching a little, he put his hand out and once Hal had grabbed his hand, pulled his brother to his feet. It still amazed and terrified him how easily he was able to do things like that now. It was as easy as turning a page in a book.

"What's going to happen now?" he asked as Hal brushed himself off, staring down the hall towards the gymnasium. Ben knew that Captain Weaver was having a debriefing with all the other soldiers, letting them know exactly what had happened in Boston.

"I don't know," Hal answered. "Once Weaver's done the debriefing, we'll know more. But I have a feeling we'll be moving out ASAP. The Skitters know where we are now, so they'll definitely be back and with Dad destroying the tower in Boston, I'd hazard a guess that they'll be heading our way sooner rather than later."

"Why don't you go to the briefing? I'm kinda tired, so I think I'll just go get some sleep." Ben purposefully didn't mention that since he'd been de-harnessed sleep had been another one of those things that had changed. He really didn't need a lot of it any more.

Hal nodded. "Okay. I'll go find out what's going on and let you know what's happening when I know more."

Nodding, Ben spun around and started to amble down the hall towards where classroom that doubled as their sleeping room was. He walked through the candle-lit corridors, marvelling at how quiet the school was at night. It was eerie; there were no soldiers patrolling, no disobedient children racing down the halls with an adult chasing after them. There was no gunfire, near or far to be heard. It was silent.

Ben stopped short as he walked past the notice board. He turned towards the board and felt a wave of sadness wash through him as he took in the many, many photos pinned there. Photos of missing children littered the wall, messages of love, grief and heartbreak written below some of them. The blonde-haired boy gasped as he saw a photo stuck in the middle of the collage. He reached out with a shaking hand to press his fingers lightly against the faded and worn picture.

It was a photo of him. Taken a few months before the invasion; he'd been dressed up for some form of presentation awards ceremony and his mom had snapped the photo as he was waiting outside for his dad to bring the car around. He couldn't remember what the awards the ceremony was for, but he remembered the day clearly. Hal had teased him mercilessly about his attire and Matt had been jealous that he hadn't been given any awards, but they both still came and clapped when he got whatever it was that he got.

He hadn't even known his mother had printed the photo, let alone that his father or brothers' had a copy. The only photo he had left was the one from Six Flags, and it was creased and worn from looking at it too many times. He'd had it on the day the Skitters had taken him.

That was one day he would never forget. He dreamt about it almost every night.

Ben plucked the photo off the board, rubbing his fingers over the paper as his own smiling face stared back at him. He remembered back to what he was like before the invasion; before he had been harnessed. He had been a self-proclaimed math geek; loving school, books and study, hating sports. He wasn't the most athletic of kids, but still loved to play around with his brothers at times. Hal had been the sporty one – always outside running around or at a practice, game or some other athletic-related event.

But now he felt different. He didn't think he could go back to being that naïve kid who loved math anymore. He didn't know if Hal and Matt realised just how different he was, or whether they were in denial. Ben knew that if needed he could revert back to his old ways, but he also realised that it wasn't what he wanted any more. With the gifts (or curse) given to him by the harness, he was strong enough to fight. It wasn't as if he would be the youngest fighter. Jimmy Boland was younger than he was and from what Ben had heard, had been a fighter pretty much from the get-go.

Taking one last glance at the photo, Ben placed it back on the board. Yes they had found him, but the boy they had so desperately wanted to bring home wasn't the same boy they had left. He was different now. The Ben they knew was long gone and buried.

Sighing, the blonde-haired boy stepped away from the make-shift shrine and strode towards where their sleeping quarters were. He pushed open the door with one hand and peered into the darkened room.

There were three cots spread across the room, an empty space where Matt's had once been. Out of the remaining three, only one of them was a giant hulking mess; his. A grin jerked at his lips as Ben saw the bundle of clothes traipsed across the cot and on the floor. He had never been one to keep everything tidy. It was just as easy to find things in the mess, if not easier. He would have to get it all tidied up soon though as they'd probably be moving out at first light.

Ambling over to where his own cot was, Ben sat down heavily and closed his eyes. As much as he was tired, he knew that sleep would not come easy. The moment he slept was the minute the dreams started; dreams of before the harness, during the harness and he even had snippets of when they were taking the harness off. Those were pretty rare and mostly it was just flashes of pain – a lot of pain.

He lay back on the cot, wincing slightly as the spikes in his back caught against something rough. Deciding that he would at least try to get some sleep, he sat back up and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt. Hesitating, he struggled whether or not to sleep with a shirt on. He always slept better without one, but now that he had metal spikes sticking out of his spine… Ben wasn't sure he wanted to any more in case someone walked in and saw them.

Biting his bottom lip in thought, Ben yanked the t-shirt up and over his head. Part of the material snagged on a spike half way up his back and he hissed as he attempted to remove the fabric from the spike. The shirt came away fairly easy and Ben tossed on the ground next to his cot where it landed in a heap of his other clothes. Next he unlatched his belt and pulled off his jeans, throwing them in the same pile. He sifted through the duffel bag full of clean(er) clothes and grabbed a pair of worn black track pants.

Carefully sliding under the blankets piled on the cot, Ben lay on his stomach. His head rested on his arm, turned towards where Matt would have been sleeping. A small smile decorated his features before Ben closed his eyes and attempted to sleep.

_Shit this is not sounding good at all,_ thought Hal as he listened to Weaver explaining to everyone what had happened in Boston. Yes he'd heard the cut-down version pertaining to his father's disappearance, but this was _bad_.

"We will have to mobilize as soon as possible to meet back up with the civilians and other fighters. This area is no longer safe and the enemy will be upon us sooner rather than later." Weaver stated as he stood before the huddled group.

Boston had been bombed, Hal had learned. Once the tower had been damaged drastically, several airships had flown in and dropped a handful of neutron bombs on the city, effectively levelling Boston. They'd destroyed a city they'd had completely under control just because the tower had been too severely damaged.

"I want to move out at first light, which means we'll all be working through the night to get all the food, supplies and other necessities the first group were unable to take with them." Weaver's voice was strong and bold, his strength unwavering even though Hal knew he was exhausted and ready to drop. The man just earned a little more respect that he'd lost earlier that night.

"Hal?"

Turning at the voice, Hal saw Maggie and Dai standing behind him. They were both holding their Colt M4A1's in front of their bodies, hands loosely gripping the triggers.

"What's up?" he replied, gripping his own gun.

"How are you handling everything?" Maggie asked; her voice soft. "I know that this can't have been easy on you, or your brothers." It was then that she realised Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Where's Ben?"

They started to walk towards the food stores, having been given the task of going through and sorting what was good and what they could take with them. "Ben… well he said he was tired, but I don't know. He's probably in the room but I wouldn't count on him being asleep."

"How did he take it?" Dai enquired. He liked both of the younger Mason boys. Matt was a laugh and there was just something about Ben. He couldn't quite put his finger on it though.

"Ben took it pretty hard." Hal admitted.

Maggie frowned. "Why?"

Sighing, Hal thought back to the conversation he'd had with his younger brother. "He blames himself. He blames himself for Karen being harnessed and for Dad getting on that ship. He thinks it's his fault."

"Why would he think that?" The blonde woman asked as they reached the food stores. She stopped and stared at the eldest Mason boy. "None of it is his fault. Surely he knows that?"

Hal contemplated whether he should elaborate or not. Both Maggie and Dai were looking at him quizzically. "Because Karen was taken and harnessed when we were trying to rescue him, he thinks it's his fault. And Dad went aboard the alien ship because they were threatening Ben's life. I can see how Ben feels it's his fault, but I don't blame him at all. If anything, he's as much as a victim as they are in all of this mess. But he doesn't see that."

"He doesn't see himself as a victim?"

Hal shook his head at Dai's question. "Nope. There's something else going on with him too, but he hasn't said anything." He turned to face them again. "You'll let me know if he says or does anything?"

"Sure, Hal."

"Of course, don't worry about it."

The black-haired teen smiled. Even though they were in a really shitty situation, it was nice to know there were people out there looking for you. Dai and Maggie were certainly those people. The whole of the Second Massachusetts was like one big family; a big family made up of soldiers, assault rifles and machine guns; but a family none-the-less.

"Thanks guys." Hal opened the door to the food stores and felt the small smile that had appeared slip off his face. "Oh god…" he groaned. "This is going to take _all night_."

The food store was a _mess_. Packets were strewn everywhere, tins rolling across the ground. Shelves were pushed haphazardly against the walls, overlapping in places and making some areas very hard to reach. What looked like a large packet of flour had burst at some point, sending the white powdery substance flying across the room and coating everything.

Maggie chuckled behind him and Hal turned to see both her and Dai about ready to break into laughter. The stress was getting to them, Hal thought. What on earth could be so funny about a destroyed room of flour, food and metal tins?

"Of course we get given the shitty job!" Maggie stated as she pushed past Hal and into the room. She bent down near a large pile of flour that would have been hidden from the boys' view and scooped up a handful before turning back to where Hal and Dai were standing, dumbstruck looks flashing across their faces.

Observing as Maggie grinned and walked into the food store, Hal felt himself shuffling backwards a little away from the destroyed room. His mind was screaming _danger_. Maggie turned and Hal caught the evil grin stretched across her lips, her eyes darkening with what looked like mischief. Sharing a look with Dai, Hal opened his mouth to try and talk some sense into whatever had gotten into the blonde-haired woman.

Instead he found himself with a face full of flour. Spluttering indignantly, Hal spat out the evil white substance from his mouth and glared at Maggie – who was now in the throes of a fit of laughter.

"What the hell was that for!?" he cried, aghast at the whole thing.

"Just trying to lighten the mood," was the reply from in between fits of laughter. Hal grinned behind the white mask coating his face. It was good to see that there was still some laughter left in the world.

"Okay, okay," he reasoned. "You've had your fun. Now we really should get started with this mess. I would hate to see what Weaver would do if he showed up and we were just throwing flour at each other…" he shivered, imagining how grouchy the captain would be if he ever saw that.

They got stuck into it. Hal had wiped the flour off his face with a spare cloth Dai found in a cupboard. A lot of the food was still edible and they'd all figured the first group to leave was in such a hurry, they wouldn't have been worried about leaving a mess.

After almost half an hour of silence, Dai spoke up. "Do you think Anthony and Pope made it to the civvies okay?" Hal stopped packing the tins into a box to look over at the older man. He'd forgotten about those two. Anthony had been severely injured in the Boston attack. They'd showed up a few hours before Weaver had in an old beat up car, reported in, before leaving again to find Doctor Glass so that she could treat Anthony.

"I don't know," Maggie replied. "I don't trust Pope, but I don't think he'd put Anthony's life at risk. He's one of the only ones here who can actually tolerate Pope."

Hal agreed. "I'm sure they made it just fine. They were going to hole up somewhere safe and secure and wait for us, so they can't have gone too far." A sudden revelation reared its ugly head as Hal thought about the others.

Matt. He was going to have to tell Matt about Dad. Groaning, Hal hung his head as he twisted the tin of peas in his hands. How the hell was he going to be able to break the news _gently_ to a nine-year-old that his father is gone and they don't if or when he'll ever come back? Fuck.

"Hal?"

Hal jerked his head up at Maggie's voice to see both her and Dai staring at him, concerned. He grinned lightly, raising an arm in a 'It's okay' wave. It was something he'd deal with once they met up with the others.

It took almost another hour to sift through all the food and deem what could be taken. There was only a small pile of damaged or open food packets, which was good. They really needed all the food and supplies they could get. Dai had run off to grab a trolley or similar so they would be able to cart the supplies to one of the cars and load it up.

"What do you think's gonna happen now?" Maggie asked. "I mean, with your dad gone Weaver's got no second-in-command and we lost a lot of good fighters in that attack."

Hal thought about it for a moment. He'd been wondering the exact same thing earlier. "I don't know," he admitted, turning to face her. He went to run a hand through his hair, but stopped short at seeing that it was covered in flour. "I guess he'll have to pick another XO. There isn't really a lot of choices he can go with. We're stretched thin as it is. As for fighters… I guess if need be we could go around and ask any of the civilians if they want to be trained how to fight… Not the ideal plan, but if we keep going the way we are, we're gonna run out of soldiers."

"Yeah," Maggie agreed. She bit her bottom lip as she wondered about approaching the idea her and Dai had discussed earlier. Hal wouldn't like it, but it was an option. "What about Ben?"

"What about Ben?" Hal snapped, eyes narrowing.

"I…" she stumbled, a little taken back by the black-haired soldier's tone. "Dai and I were discussing this earlier and we wondered if Ben would want to be trained up as a fighter. He could do well, y'know. He would probably have to do some bulking up, but he has a great mind from what I've been told. He's very smart."

Hal couldn't believe what she was saying. They wanted _Ben_ to be a fighter? They wanted his little math geek of a brother to pick up a gun and actually _use it_?

"Are you insane?" he growled, ignoring the flash of hurt on Maggie's face. "He's fifteen years old! He's a kid who loved school and books and all things geeky. Ben, with a gun? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Hal stood, grabbing the box of tins and started to push past the blonde woman and towards the car pool. There was no way in hell he was ever letting Ben pick up a weapon. As far as he knew, there were only a handful of people that knew about the subtle changes that were ravaging Ben's body – the increase of strength and stamina; the ability to hear the alien frequencies.

If the general population found out about it all it could turn two ways. Ben could be locked up and treated as a freak, or he could be extorted; used for the super-human abilities bestowed upon him by the now-removed harness.

"Hal!" The young soldier was broken out of his thoughts. Glancing over he saw Weaver heading towards him.

"Captain Weaver," he acknowledged, shifting the box in his arms to better distribute the weight. As soon as Weaver caught up, they continued to walk in the direction of the cars.

"How's the remaining food stock looking?"

"Good," he answered. "There was only a small amount that was too damaged for consumption. Maggie's finishing up sorting through the packeted stuff and Dai went off to find a trolley to cart it back out to the cars."

They came to a door and Hal waited while Weaver pushed it open, admitting them to the outside of the building. Hal noticed that it was almost light. People were milling around the cars, loading supplies and checking over everything ready to move out when told.

"The food's going in the old green pickup in the middle of the convoy there," Weaver explained. Hal nodded and headed towards it, dumping the box in the back and sighing in relief as the weight was relieved. God that box had been heavy.

"Alright people!" Weaver announced. "As soon as the last of the food has been stored away, we'll be heading out! I want be leaving this school in the dust within the hour!" Weaver turned towards Hal, lowering his voice. "Go get your stuff sorted out, Hal. Get Ben ready too. Dai and Maggie will deal with the rest of the food supplies."

Nodding, the eldest Mason turned and headed back towards the school. Hopefully Ben had managed to get some shut-eye and even if he hadn't, had managed to sort out the disaster zone what was his area of the classroom.

He passed the food store as he was making his way to where Ben was. Maggie and Dai were loading up the boxes of food onto a trolley. He stopped. "Hey, Maggie?"

They both spun around at his voice. "I'm sorry about before… It's just, Ben's…" he trailed off, unable to bring into words what he thought of his little brother.

"I know," she replied, smiling. "It's okay. You want to protect him. I understand. Now, are you gonna help us with the rest of this shit or not?"

Hal grimaced, a tentative smile appearing. "Uhh, yeah about that… Weaver told me to get my stuff sorted and to make sure Ben's all good to go. He's left you two to finish up here… sorry!"

Maggie just rolled her eyes. "I figured something like that would happen. Don't worry about it, Hal. Go get your shit sorted. We're almost done here anyway."

"Thanks Maggie, Dai." He appreciated it, he really did. Giving them a little wave as he strode off, Hal found himself increasingly thankful for his friends.

Reaching the room where Ben was, Hal peered through the pane of glass at the top of the door entering. An eyebrow rose at the sight before him. Ben had obviously slept only a little, if at all. The room was spotless; the cots rolled up and packed away and all of their clothes were packed into the backpacks sitting next to the bedding.

He strained his neck a little and looked further into the room before spotting Ben. He was standing in a shadowy part of the room, only dressed in a pair of black jeans. He was holding a pale green t-shirt in his hands and was staring down at it. Hal couldn't help but gasp when he saw his brother's pale back. It was the first time since they'd cut off the harness that Hal had seen the metal spikes piercing through the skin on Ben's back.

He stood there, transfixed as he watched Ben reach up and touch the spikes at the base of his neck tenderly before dropping his hands back to his side. Deciding that he'd had enough spying on his brother, Hal knocked on the door.

Ben spun around, eyes wide and quickly shoving the shirt over his head before pulling it down.

"Hey, Hal."

Hal pushed the door open. "I see that you've got everything sorted?" he peered inquiringly at his brother, noting the pale complexion and dark shadows smudged beneath his eyes. "You didn't sleep." It wasn't a question.

"Too much stuff going on in my head," was the response. "I tried though."

Ben came over and sat down on one of the chairs placed at the end of the room, slumping into it and hanging his head low. Hal took this time to take a closer look at his younger brother. He looked miserable.

"How're you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

Sighing, Hal sat down on the chair next to him. "You look anything but fine, Ben."

Ben didn't answer; instead he stared into nothing with his hands clasped together in his lap. Hal sat there in silence next to him. He wondered what was going in his brother's mind. Knowing Ben, he was overthinking whatever had his mind in knots. It was something he'd always done.

"I want to fight."

Hal's mouth dropped open. Where the hell had that come from!? Talk about dropping a freakin' bomb on someone. Spinning sideways, Hal stared at Ben, watching his body language. Anything to try and figure out what the hell was going on in his freaky mind.

"What?" _So eloquently put…_ Hal thought.

Ben looked up and locked eyes with his older brother. "I want to fight. I want to be able to help; not just sit around and be another mouth to feed, another child to protect."

"Ben…" exasperated, Hal rubbed his face attempting to get rid of the weariness that had settled over him like a thick blanket. "I don't know if that's a good idea." God… first Maggie and Dai, now Ben? Why the hell did everyone want him to fight?

"And why not?" Ben exploded as he stood. The chair he was sitting on fell to the ground in his haste. "Jimmy fights and he's younger than me! All I need is some training, which you can do, and then I can be more help than if I was just sitting around doing nothing!"

Hal stood as well and was about to respond to his brother's argument when the door opened and Jimmy poked his head in apprehensively.

"What is it Jimmy?" Hal asked after turning to see who it was. He glared at Ben even as Jimmy responded.

"Captain Weaver said that it's time to go. The cars are loaded up and everyone's waiting outside."

"Okay Jimmy. Thanks."

Without taking his eyes off Ben, Hal bent down and picked up the bound cots and his bag of clothing and other possessions. Ben followed suit.

As they were walking out of the classroom that had served as their sleeping quarters, Hal turned to Ben. "We'll talk about this later." Ben never responded.

Outside, they loaded their luggage onto one of the trucks and while Ben went and hopped into one of the cars, Hal moved over to where his motorbike was propped up and swung his leg over. Shifting the gun on his back so that it was comfortable, the young soldier looked over to where Captain Weaver was standing on the back of a Pontiac GTO. They must been able to find another one, Hal mused, as the other one had been destroyed in Boston.

"Alright! Let's roll out!" Weaver commanded. Seconds later the vehicles started and the remaining convoy of the Second Massachusetts moved out, away from the John F. Kennedy High School that held a lot of good memories, but some bad ones as well.

Hal took one last good look at the school that had been their home for the past while. It looked deserted now, burnt out cars littering the front yard while barbed wire fencing created a prison-like look to the place.

They'd lost their safe haven and were now moving out to find the rest of their little militia movement before regrouping and figuring out what on earth they were going to do next. It felt like a new beginning in some ways, but Hal knew it wasn't going to be easy. They were essentially on the run, being chased and tracked by vicious creatures from another planet hell bent on destroying them all.

The road before them would be paved with a lot of battles and bloodshed, but Hal had hope that they'd all come through. Maybe not unscathed, by at least alive.

Kick-starting the bike, Hal Mason took off after the convoy. His thoughts turning on how he was going to tell a nine-year-old that his father was gone and what he was going to do with a fifteen-year-old that had decided he wanted to fight.

_Dad, where the hell are you? I need you… _we_ need you…_

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**Part 1 fin. Stay tuned for the first chapter of Part 2! Please review :)**


	3. Part 2, chapter 1

**Here's Part 2! Just come back from seeing Iron Man 3 for the fourth time and after downloading the soundtrack, I'm in a major writing mood. Next part is almost done too, so hopefully it'll be up within the next few weeks... So sorry for the wait!**

**Enjoy.**

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**SURVIVAL**

_**DancerInTheDark101**_

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– Part 2 –

- Chapter 1 -

_Underestimated_

Doctor Anne Glass sighed as she checked and rewrapped the bandages on one of the Second Massachusetts fighter's wounds. The man had been hit by a flying piece of shrapnel that sliced through the top part of his arm. It was healing nicely, but it would be some time before he was able to wield a gun properly and without pain. She was inside the med bus and had been for hours.

They had escaped from the school almost twenty-four hours earlier. It had been hard, due to the sheer amount of people travelling at once and not having Captain Weaver or Tom with them had made it a lot more difficult. Several of the fighters travelling with them had let the power get to their heads and had become almost unbearable to work with. Many times Anne had to go to one of the other fighters and tell them to keep the others in line. The civilians, especially the children, were becoming uneasy in their presence.

But then several hours ago, a car had pulled up near where they were camped out and waiting for the rest of the fighters to arrive. Shouts had alerted the camp immediately and Anne had heard her name being called frantically.

"_Doctor Glass! Doctor Glass!" The frantic shouts were coming from the direction of the road. Anne quickly looked to Lourdes and passed her the roll of bandages she was currently wrapping around a soldier's wounds. Nodding as she passed the young girl, the doctor rushed out of the med bus and towards where a large crowd had congregated. Had Weaver and Tom arrived already? _

_Reaching the crowd Anne quickly realised that it wasn't Tom or Weaver. She could hear Pope yelling for everyone to get out of the way. People started to part as the scraggly-haired man inched through with another fighter. Anthony was strung between them limply, their arms wrapped around him to keep him upright. The darker-skinned man was a mess. His clothes were ripped in places, blood leaking profusely from several wounds scattered all over his body. _

_Pope wasn't exactly a specimen of health either. He was breathing hard, face dirty and scratched. He looked exhausted. _

"_What happened?" she asked as she reached them, rapidly taking in where all the wounds were and the condition of the fighter before her. "Quick, bring him to the med bus." Turning Anne saw Matt Mason standing to the side, his face a picture of horror. _

"_Matt, can you go tell Lourdes we've got a severely injured Anthony that needs to be attended to right away?" _

_The young boy nodded, his curly blonde hair bouncing at the movement. Taking a deep breath she watched him run off towards the bus before spinning back to the injured men in front of her. "Hurry," she commanded. _

_They managed to get Anthony into the bus without much more hassle. She instructed Pope to lay him down on the table that Lourdes had placed in the middle of the bus and nodded to the young Latina girl to start removing the shredded clothing. _

"_Alright Pope, what the hell happened? And where are Weaver and Tom?" She didn't look at the man as she started to work on Anthony. After inserting an IV into the back of his left hand, Anne grabbed her stethoscope and checked her patient's heartbeat. Thankfully it was still strong; a little fast, but strong. _

"_Well you see…" Pope started in that drawling tone of his. Anne really couldn't be bothered dealing with his dramatized actions. _

"_Spit it out Pope! I don't have all day."_

_Even though she wasn't looking at the ex-con, Anne knew exactly what he would have done. Hands would be immediately in the air in a 'whoa, don't shoot the messenger' pose. _

"_Okay…" Eyes would be rolling right about now. "Mason showed up just after the initial attack." A slight pause. "Which was unsuccessful by the way. As far as I knew then, only me, Anthony and Weaver had survived."_

_Tom had shown up? Wasn't he supposed to be with the group left at the school? Anne didn't her voice her thoughts, instead letting Pope continue with his commentary. _

"_So Mason told me to grab Anthony and high-tail it out of there. He was going to find Weaver and see what the hell was going on and what they could do about it. That's the last I saw of Mason. I grabbed Anthony and we left. We didn't meet any of the Skitter dudes on the way back, but we did see the explosions from the city."_

"_What?" Anne stopped her ministrations on Anthony to turn and stare at Pope. There were explosions in the city? _

"_Yeah, explosions. It looked like someone dropped a few neutron bombs on Boston. I'd say the whole city was levelled." There was no humour or sarcasm left in Pope's voice as he stated what had happened to the city. _

"_Skitters?" She asked, afraid of the answer. If Tom and Weaver had been in the city when the Skitters had dropped the bombs…_

"_Yeah that's what I'd guess. Don't know why, unless someone managed to damage the tower. But that still doesn't explain why the aliens would level a city they had complete control over." _

_Taking in a shaky breath, Anne closed her eyes as she attempted to get her wayward emotions under control. The doctor gasped as a thought occurred to her and her hand came up to cover her mouth. She pressed her lips to the back of her hand as to not come in contact with the blood staining her skin from Anthony's wounds. _

"_What about Hal?" Tom's eldest boy had gone with the convoy into the city. He wasn't... He couldn't be…_

_Lourdes head shot up at Anne's question. Hal? _

"_The last I heard, Hal's fine. Weaver ordered him back to the school before we even hit the city. Before coming here we stopped off at the school and gave them a quick rundown of what I knew. Hal was okay then."_

_Anne let out a sigh of relief and she saw Lourdes do the same. It was obvious the young girl held feelings for the eldest Mason boy. What would come of it, Anne didn't know. _

"_Alright. Thanks Pope. You can leave now. We've got to stabilize Anthony. I'll let you know when we're finished so I can give you a look over." _

_Wiping the sweat from her face with her arm, Anne turned back to Lourdes and her patient._

Hours later, Anthony had been patched up and moved to one of the bunk beds at the back of the bus. He was awake and talking and barring any infection or complication, he would be fine. Setting away the equipment used to treat the soldier's wounded arm, Anne opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a white bottle filled with pills. Shaking out two of them, she wandered back to where the fighter was seated.

"Here." Anne placed the two pills into his hand. "Take two and don't hesitate to ask for more if you feel the need. I want to keep you in here overnight, just to keep an eye on your injuries."

"Thanks, Doctor," Anthony replied, before being helped to lie back down on the stretcher, a low moan escaping as his injuries made contact with the hard mattress. He then proceeded to turn on his good side and soon after his breathing evened out as he fell into a drugged sleep.

Anne stretched, pulling her arms over her head and rocking her head to the side to alleviate the stiffness in her neck that had been gradually been building since the quick escape from the high school. She sat down on the now vacant seat and looked out the bus's window, quickly seeing the youngest Mason sitting alone by one of the pillars that held up the bridge that ran above them.

"Lourdes?" she called out to her assistant. "I'm heading out for some air. Let me know if you need me." After hearing a mumbled yes in reply, Anne headed out towards where Matt was sitting.

"Hey Matt," she said as she sat down next to him. He looked miserable; head down, hands fiddling with a flower that he was spinning between his fingers. He glanced up at her voice and Anne got a look at his eyes – eyes that were brimming with tears.

"Oh, Matt…" Feeling her heart break for the young boy, Anne gathered him in her arms and hugged him tight. He sobbed a little in her embrace, his small arms coming to wrap around her as well and Anne couldn't help but think about her own little boy and the last time they had shared a moment like this. Sammy had scraped his knee and after patching it all up, he'd pulled her into an embrace. Her husband had walked into the house minutes later and had smiled at the scene.

Her own lost family was one of the reasons she vowed to take care of the Mason's so much. The small family had been through so much; with losing their mom and then with Ben being taken by the Skitters… She was going to do her best to keep the four of them together.

"Don't you worry, Matt. Your dad and brothers are going to be just fine. They'll be here within the day and then you can hug them all you want."

Matt nodded against her neck and before loosening his grip. He looked up at her, a timid smile appearing on his face. "Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to cry all over you." His eyes widened in horror as something occurred to him. "You won't tell Hal and Ben will you?"

He looked so scared of his older brothers finding out that Anne had to laugh. Reaching out and ruffling his golden hair, she shook her head. "Of course not. It'll be our little secret." She finished the sentence with a sly wink.

She got a smile out of that and Anne noticed just how much his face changed when he smiled. It was beautiful sight to see a happy child, especially in the dark and dangerous days they were currently part of.

Anne sat there in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the sunshine and Matt's company. It was because of the silence that the dark-haired woman heard the sounds of approaching vehicles; multiple vehicles. Had the others finally arrived? She nudged Matt lightly and nodded her head in the direction of the engine noises.

Matt's eyes widened and his face split into a grin. She had to grab his arm and hold him back from running towards the noises. Yes, it might have been the others, but they still had to be cautious. You never knew who would show up and from previous experiences even if they said they were allies, they could very well be an enemy.

"Captain Weaver's here!" The loud shout echoed throughout the camp and immediately afterwards a huge cheer erupted from the crowd of both civilians and fighters alike. Anne smiled and let go of Matt's arm. As soon as he was released, the young Mason rushed towards where Anne could see several vehicles pulling into the space cleared in the middle of the camp.

_Finally._

She stood up slowly, stretching a little before heading towards the horde of people. The throaty sound of motorbikes penetrated the air soon after, the source of the sound appearing around the corner. At seeing Hal Mason in the lead, Anne let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. One Mason down, two to go.

"Hal!" Matt's young voice carried over the elated crowd. Hal's head snapped up at hearing his name and quickly scanned the mass of people to spot his brother racing towards him, a huge smile on his face.

"Hey Matty!" Hal swung his leg over the bike and stretched a little before being thrown back slightly as his little brother wrapped his arms around him.

"Hey jerk." Matt looked up from hugging his brother to see Ben standing nearby, a battered backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Ben!" The youngest Mason quickly ran over and gave his other brother a hug too. "Where's Dad?" he asked, staring up at the two of them. He didn't miss the look they shared, or the way Ben bit his bottom lip.

Matt let go of Ben and stood back. "What's going on? What happened? Where's Dad?" Neither of his brothers answered with words but their silence said everything. Hal looked worried, his dark eyes narrowing and he wouldn't look at him; whereas Ben looked guilty, his eyes downcast, unable to look at anything except the ground.

The smile instantly slipped off his face. "What aren't you telling me? Dad's not…" he trailed off, unable to even finish thinking the thought.

Hal sighed, eyes closing briefly before opening and locking with his youngest brother's. "Come on, Matt. Captain Weaver's going to brief everyone so we'll go somewhere and we'll tell you everything, okay?" He shot a glare to Ben who looked like he would rather be dipping his hands in scalding water than dealing with it. Hal knew why too; he still blamed himself and didn't want to see the non-existent blame that would be evident in Matt's eyes when he found out.

It was scary just how much he still knew his younger brother.

Grabbing Matt's shoulders, Hal started to steer the young boy away from the copious amounts of people milling around the returned soldiers. He met Anne's eyes and shook his head at her inquisitive glance. 'He's not dead' he mouthed to her, hoping that the doctor was able to lip read. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, hands clasped together in front of her. Hal knew that she'd gotten the message.

"Go wait for me over by that tent," Hal ordered his younger brother.

Matt broke out of his hold and ran ahead, his face contorted into a mixture between anger and grief. Hal waited for Ben to slowly catch up, glancing at his brother before reaching out and gripping his arm. "Hey," he said. Ben ignored him, turning his head away. "Hey! Listen…" Hal grabbed the younger boy's chin and forced his gaze to him. "Matt's not going to blame you. He'll understand Ben. You've gotta understand that this wasn't your fault!"

Ben glared. "Whatever." He jerked his head out of Hal's grip and walked on ahead, towards where the youngest brother was now waiting.

Hal sighed. He wasn't going to be able to get through to Ben anytime soon… The dark-haired teen didn't know when Ben had acquired the attitude, but it was starting to grate on his nerves. Hal mentally noted that he was going to have to try and figure out what the hell was up with his brother – barring the obvious. Now, he had to tell his eight-year-old brother that his father was missing…

"Where is he, Hal?" Matt whispered, his lower lip trembling and tears forming in his eyes. "Is Dad… is he d-d-dea—?" Hal closed his hands into fists as his brother's stuttering. The boy couldn't even speak the word.

"Hey," Hal murmured and knelt down, bring himself level with Matt. He reached forward and placed his hands on Matt's shoulders, peering at his brother's face as it turned away from him. "Hey," he repeated. "Matt, look at me. C'mon kiddo, look at me."

It took a while, but eventually Matt turned his head to the front. Hal could see tears tracing down his brother's tanned cheeks, slowly dripping off his chin and wetting the collar of his shirt. The eldest Mason brother lifted a hand off Matt's shoulder and flicked away the tears.

"No tears. There's no need for them, okay?" Matt nodded in response, sniffing slightly. "Dad's not dead," Hal revealed, watching in anticipation as the grief disappeared and was quickly replaced by shock, surprise and relief before settling in happiness.

"Dad's… Dad's not d-dead?"

Hal shook his head. "No, he's not." Hearing a quiet snort come from his left, Hal flicked his gaze over and saw Ben folding his arms over his chest, looking away from them. Hal didn't have the heart to tell Matt that it was most likely that even though their father had been alive when he got on the spaceship, there was no guarantee that he was now.

"Then where is he?" Matt asked, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what was going on. Hal opened his mouth as he attempted to answer, but was cut out as Ben spoke up.

"Dad got on a spaceship." _Wow_, Hal thought as he blinked at Ben. _That was blunt. _

"What!?" Matt exploded, knocking Hal's hands off his shoulders and glaring at his brothers. "Dad got on a _what_!?"

Hal glared darkly at Ben, who, with his arms crossed over his chest, looked every bit the rebellious teenager. _Thanks a lot, Ben,_ Hal thought. Ben's personality seemed to have done a one-eighty in the last five minutes. It made Hal a little wary, as Ben had never been one for violent mood swings before, but this wasn't the time to dwell on those thoughts. He filed away the thoughts for another time.

"Matt!" Hal shouted as the youngest of the three launched himself at Ben, blonde curls flying around his face as struggled to get past Hal. "Calm down!" When that didn't seem to work, Hal sucked in a deep breath and resorted to drastic measures. The last thing he needed (or wanted) was for the commotion to reach the Second Mass's populace.

"Shit, Matt! _Stop!_" Hal wrapped his arms around Matt's waist and without a pause, planted the boy on his ass on the dirty ground. A cry shot out of the blonde boy's mouth as he was forcefully forced down, his brother's arms tight around his body.

It was only then that Hal realised that through the anger and struggles, Matt was actually crying. Muffled sobs wracked his small frame as the boy trembled in his arms. Hal pressed his lips together as he brought Matt to rest against his chest, lifting his head to stare at the sky, before closing his eyes; his emotions were all over the place.

"Why?"

The dark-haired teen blinked. What?

"Why?" Oh, it was Matt. "Why would he do that? Why would Dad leave us?" The words were barely above a whisper, the happiness that had stemmed from the news that their father wasn't dead gone. That joy had been replaced by a much uglier emotion – grief.

"It was to protect me."

"_Ben…_" Hal breathed. Ben looked miserable. His green eyes dark and filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place. He made to intervene, but was stopped by the dark look flung his way. Blinking, he pulled Matt closer to his chest, hugging the distraught boy.

"The aliens said that I wasn't free from the harness and the only way they'd leave me alone was if he got on the ship. So he did." That said, Ben turned on his heel and strode off, leaving behind his brothers sitting on the ground, one shocked into silence, the other crying.

Walking away from his brothers was hard, Ben found as he left. He could hear Matt's muffled sobs and Hal trying to comfort the youngest Mason son and Ben clenched his hands into fists to fight down the rage that had suddenly appeared, erasing the grief from a moment ago. It wasn't that he was angry at Hal or Matt; no, he was angry at himself. He was angry that his father had been such an ass to even _think _of leaving them; he was angry at himself, for not being strong enough to resist the harness and whatever the aliens were doing to him; he was angry that he was still being treated as a child, unable to make his own decisions.

He quickly strode over to a secluded area of trees and slumped down against one of them, before leaning forward and bringing his hands up to cover his face. What was he doing? Why was he so eager to join the fight and most likely end up getting himself killed? Did he even have the guts to go through with it? He knew he'd told Hal that he wanted to fight, and Ben knew that whatever the Skitters had done to him was going to help, but… did he have the mental strength to pick up a gun and fire it? He was just a fifteen-year-old math geek after all…

Sighing, Ben dropped his hands and leaned back, resting his head against the bark. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

Should he do it?

Yes.

Would he do it?

Yes.

_Could_ he do it?

Maybe…

There was only one way to find out.

Eyes snapping open, Ben pushed himself off the ground, determination running through his alien-enhanced body. First off, he had to find Weaver.

Once upon a time he had been a fifteen-year-old weak math geek, always reading and learning, never popular and preferred staying inside on his computer than outside doing sports and socializing.

Now, he was a fifteen-year-old survivor; an ex-prisoner of war, an experiment to a band of aliens. He was stronger than he'd ever been; he was stronger in both mind and body. He'd endured pain, a lot more than his family would ever know; he'd had aliens poking around in his head, telling him what to do, controlling his body while his own consciousness was captive in a caged corner of his mind. He'd almost been broken.

And he lived to be set free. He may not have the knowledge of a soldier, but he was willing to learn so that he could destroy the very things that almost destroyed him from the inside out.

He wanted to fight.

* * *

Sorry not much happens in this chapter… Next chapter sees Ben have _that_ conversation with Weaver and his training begins :) Most of it is already written and I've written a few more scenes for down the track – WICKED action scenes. You can think the Iron Man 3 soundtrack for the inspiration lol.

Pretty please review!


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